


A Waste of A Pie

by TimTheToaster (tabletoptime)



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Baking, Fluff, Humour, JayTim Week, M/M, Pre-Relationship, from a person who can only just sort of bake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:28:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24484330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tabletoptime/pseuds/TimTheToaster
Summary: "Baking is an important life skill to have, babybird, of course I know how to do it. The real question is where your bougie ass learned the value of a good home-made confectionery?" Jason leaned back onto one hip and crossed his arms, ignoring how hard it was to look intimidating while spotted with cream.In which a question is asked, an answer isn't had, but a good time is instead.
Relationships: Tim Drake/Jason Todd
Comments: 5
Kudos: 109





	A Waste of A Pie

"At this point, this is just insulting to the great art of baked goods." Red Hood idly commented as he ducked yet another explosive pie aimed at his head.

Red Robin beside him was busy trying to beat back the waves of angry wind-up toys, great sweeping movements with his bo to keep them from swarming him like giant malicious ants. "It's a travesty is what it is. Either they're poorly made pies being punished for what is clearly not their fault, or they're a waste of perfectly good desserts. I'm not sure which would be worse."

Hood dove out of the way this time, not inclined in the slightest to fuck around with a vertical line of whipped-cream and C4, but on the recovery roll he still managed to get splattered. Ugh, like he needed more reasons to clean his gear. There weren't roaches in any of his safe houses,  _ per se _ , but washing large quantities of sweet water down the drain certainly wasn't going to help the situation.

"Either way is a crime. Good pies are  _ hard _ to make, though I'm pretty sure these are at best freezer pies that are hiding their shame with explosives."

That earned him a snort and a couple of smaller explosions to the right, so apparently the metaphorical gloves were off and the literal utility belt was open. Which was Hood's green light to stop fucking around with rubber bullets that could do fuck-all against a series of pie-throwing machines anyways.

But they had an agreement, and like hell Hood was going to be the one to fuck it up just because he got impatient. Rubber bullets only until Red agreed there were no humans around to get hurt, and pulled out his own higher grade arsenal.

Duck, duck, swap mags,  _ bang _ . One down.

"See  _ I'm  _ more than familiar with the specialized hell that is baking, but I didn't realize you knew anything about it. I knew you could cook, but they're  _ not _ the same thing." Red Robin's tone was casual, and less out of breath than it had been, so he must be making progress over on his side of things as well.

Stupid traps, stupid crazy villains with bizarre ideas about what was and wasn't funny, stupid  _ pies exploding next to his head and filling his mics with whipped fucking cream _ .

In a fit of righteous anger-  _ yes it was, shut up- _ Jason took down the remaining pie throwers. The little pops and smacks of controlled violence settled down beside him so he assumed Red was done as well.

"Baking is an important life skill to have, babybird, of course I know how to do it. The real question is where your bougie ass learned the value of a good home-made confectionery?" Jason leaned back onto one hip and crossed his arms, ignoring how hard it was to look intimidating while spotted with cream. He could do it, he had skills. "Unless you're just piggybacking off of A's incredible baking skills and claiming knowledge through him."

Red cut him off before he could really get going on his totally-not-prepped-ahead-of-time rant about second-hand knowledge and deceiving well-meaning allies. Spoilsport. "I learned first with bread and stuff when I was a kid, and branched out into sweet things later. But I make a mean lemon meringue pie."

A low whistle. "Meringue is a bitch. If you're telling the truth, that's impressive. But the way I see it, odds are you're fucking with me."

"Your place on Meynard and 49th, tomorrow evening. I'll bring the supplies, you set the oven to preheat by seven and make sure your utensils are clean. I'll make you eat your words." The indignation on the bottom half of Red's face was adorable, all soft, scrunched lips and determined edge to his jaw.

"The pie can't be that good if I'm eating my words instead." Jason couldn't help being an asshole, not when it got him looks like  _ that  _ from the kid. Indignation giving way to a sharp edged smile that said a whole lot about what  _ other _ things Jason might want to try eating.

“Come on now, your mouth is big enough for your words, my pie, and probably a couple more things if we put a little work into it.”

And with that parting shot, Red grappled up into the rafters and swung away, leaving Jason tracking his progress with a remarkably dry mouth.

\--

The next night Jason was pacing his apartment, wondering just what the hell he had agreed to. With that look on Red's face and the adrenaline, he would have agreed to damn near anything, but now with some sleep and no distracting face, he was starting to think this may have been a bad idea.

He hadn't even known Red knew about this safe house, let alone that it was the one with the best kitchen. Creepy little bastard.

But the dishes were cleaned, and so was the living room, the bathroom, the coasters he never fucking used but Roy had thought were funny, and just about every other thing in the apartment, nailed down or not.

Everything was fine, it was just going to be baking with a cute guy in his home who he had  _ finally _ started getting along with after some early miscommunications and attempted murders. A cute guy he had not so subtly been keeping an eye on even after the crazy revenge-haze had started to fade, first out of habit and then because even just watching his day-to-day was so weirdly soothing. It was  _ fine _ .

Oh god he was going to humiliate himself and it was going to involve powdered sugar, wasn't it?

Before Jason could spiral too far into the exact details of his sweet but horrifying inevitable social death, there was a knock.

He could do this, he could. 

The door was barely open before Tim was shoving a grocery bag into his chest. 

“I hope you’re ready to get your mind blown and general expectations of my incompetence shattered. Can you empty this on either your island, counter, or whatever sanitary surface you’re okay with me working on?”

“I don’t think you’re incompetent,” Jason replied automatically, hands closing around the plastic bag. “And I’m not gonna make you work on the damn ground or something. Use the left counter, and I’ll use the one on the right.”

Tim grinned at him cheekily over his shoulder. “My right or your right?”

“We’re facing the same direction, they’re the same thing,” Jason rolled his eyes. “Now you’ve talked a big game, so you’d better bring it.”

“Oh don’t you worry, this pie is going to blow your mind.” Tim wasn’t looking at him as he said it, already pulling ingredients out of bags and lining them up, but Jason couldn’t help but watch as he rolled up his sleeves and drummed his fingers against the counter, once, like he was bringing himself into focus. Tim glanced over, just a slide of sharp grey-blue. “Are you planning on getting started, or…?”

Jason covered his start by spinning around and fiddling with his own ingredients. “Yes, yup definitely. Though you’re gonna have to guess what I’m making, and we’ll see if all your  _ detective _ skills can tell you what exactly it is before it comes out of the oven.”

Immediately, Tim was crowding over his shoulder to peer at his set-up. Jason could feel the heat of him, barely an inch away, and he decidedly ignored the goosebumps that rippled across his arms to gently press an elbow into Tim’s stomach. “Hey, get back on your side of the kitchen! Who knows what kind of sneaky sabotage you might try and pull?”

“Sabotage?” Tim sounded indignant, but he brushed an electric hand over Jason’s shoulder as his presence retreated backwards. “I am a good, honest baker, thank you very much, and I don’t need  _ sabotage  _ to crush you.”

Jason didn’t even try to hide his snicker. “Is that right, mister ‘About to use baking soda instead of sugar’?”

“Wh- oh shit!”

After that, Tim started actually focusing on his side of the kitchen, though Jason could feel eyes occasionally turn his way. He tried not to think too hard about how red the back of his neck must be; Kori always teased him about it when he got flustered. Hopefully Tim wouldn’t know what it meant?

Jason had picked a recipe from online to match Tim’s oven pre-set, so this was actually his first time making this specific variation, and he was trying not to panic. Sure he knew what he was doing enough that he was fairly confident this would be fine, but it also wouldn’t be the first time he had followed a recipe perfectly only for it to come out tasting like goopy sawdust.

He had meant to bring his A-game to this little competition, but the hopeless romantic in him piped up for the first time in a while, and Jason couldn’t resist the urge to indulge it. So instead of his tried and true, kick-ass macaroons, he was trying something completely new. God help him.

About an hour later, Jason was pulled out of his anxious baking zone by a large amount of movement out of the corner of his eye. Tim was carrying his crust to the oven, then. Jason was in the process of positioning his creations on the first baking tray, trying to space them out enough that they wouldn’t expand into each other while also maximizing the number he could fit. What he didn’t understand was why Tim brushed against him on his way to the oven, despite there being more than enough space to completely avoid touching each other.

He couldn’t say he minded, though, not with the way it left a tingling streak across his back. 

What he  _ did _ mind was the sudden impact of powder into the back of his head and the feeling of it sliding down the back of his neck, sticking, in some places, to the perspiration from working in a small. warm kitchen with another person. 

Jason twisted with a sound that was definitely  _ not _ a yelp, and met Tim’s mischievous grin with a heatless glare. “You sure you wanna start this, pretty boy?”

A flicker of surprise skittered across Tim’s face, but he recovered quickly, cocking an eyebrow as his hand drifted back towards his ingredients. “I’m not in the habit of starting things I can’t finish. The real question here is do you think you can take me?”

“You’re getting in over your head, but hey. That’s about to be  _ your _ problem, not mine,” Jason quipped, waiting just long enough for Tim to open his mouth to toss his own handful of flour, catching him right in the face.

As he blinked through the fine powder, Tim’s grin edged onto manic, and Jason couldn’t tell if his heart was pounding in anticipation of a fight or from his sharp and shining eyes.

“Oh, it’s  _ on. _ ” 

After that, Jason was too busy laughing and trying not to choke on flying flour to keep track of much else.

It was only forty minutes later, when the oven’s timer went off, that reality cut back in. Jason met Tim’s gaze through the last of the falling flour, dusty from head to toe, and smiled breathlessly. 

Tim jabbed a finger at him. “Don’t move. When this crust is no longer a fire hazard, I am going to resume kicking your ass.”

“Sir, yes sir,” Jason raised his hands in mock surrender. “Though I’m pretty sure you’re the one who looks like a knock-off Casper right now.”

“If I’m Casper, does that make you double undead?”

Jason replied with a laugh and a piece of hurled chocolate that pegged Tim clean in the forehead as he turned around, pie tin in hand.

He never did get his kiss cookies in the oven, but, somehow, Jason couldn’t bring himself to care.

**Author's Note:**

> Boy howdy was writing this a Whole Goddamn Thing. I like how it turned out, don't get me wrong, but! Writing ships is not exactly my forte so this entire exercise has been a bunch of me going !!!!! while trying to make this actually romantic. I think I succeeded?
> 
> If anyone was wondering why I missed my normal updates on other stuff, this is why, btw. I have stuff for Almost every day, though I'm taking the free day as a break day because my creativity is an imaginary construct at this point. 
> 
> Technically not a whole Baking AU, but I can just write cute domestic baking if I want dammit! And I did, so here it is. Shoutout to all of the mods and people who put all the work into setting JayTim Week up since that sounds Hard As All Get-out. 
> 
> Thanks for taking a look, feel free to drop a comment if you enjoyed and want to make my day, and I hope you're all doing as well as is possible given, y'know. Everything Happening All The Time. Stay safe <3


End file.
